Star Wars: Darth Zannah: Specters of the Past
by gabriel.janas
Summary: A year has passed since Darth Zannah has seized the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith. But not all is at it seems. The past must be faced to mold and control the future. This is a continuation of the Star Wars Legends Darth Bane Trilogy


STAR WARS LEGENDS: DARTH ZANNAH- "Specters of the Past"

GABRIEL JANAS

Prologue

"**P**retender," the disembodied voice echoed like thunder throughout the darkened meditation chamber.

A crimson light filled the small square durasteel chamber accompanied a distinctive snap- hiss that bounced off the walls until the sound dissipated. In its place the steady sound of a vibrating hum throbbed back and forth from wall to wall. The walls softly vibrated in time to the hum as if they breathed in and out, taking a life of their own.

Staring at the long onyx and silver handle that floated in front of her, Zannah's icy blue eyes slipped along the length of the elongated handle of her lightsaber. Settling her gaze on the crimson blade of energy protecting out of the left end of the handle. With a steadying breath Zannah focused all her thoughts on the handle. Reaching out with her mind, she lightly touched the small silver activation button to the right of the center most point of the hilt. The button activated at her touch causing the blade on the right to shutdown with a loud sucking sound. Flipping the handle in the air so that the remaining blade was now vertical, she floated the lightsaber closer towards her. The air grew instantly hot against her cloaked body. She felt the light dampness of sweat begin to bead her face as she stared into the depths of the angry red fire that burned smokeless within the center of the blade.

Releasing the breath she was holding against her gritted teeth with a hiss, Zannah closed her eyes. She focused on the hum that vibrated the room around her. Air inhaled up into her nose and related against her teeth slowed her breathing. The pulsing thump of her heart began to beat in a steadier rhythm.

"I am Zannah, Dark Lord of the Sith," Zannah chanted out loud for the hundredth time.

"Lies," the ghostly voice answered her. The voice bounced off the chamber walls and penetrating her skull. She felt its familiar malevolence seize her core in its death grip.

"I AM Zannah, Dark Lord of the Sith," Zannah hissed squeezing her eyelids together tighter.

A faint tremor began in Zannah's left hand. The sensation had become all too familiar in the year since she claimed the title of Dark Lord of the Sith on that lake shore on Ambria. She had claimed that she was the true master of the dark side, but Zannah knew she was undeserving of the claim if she failed at her task here. Sweat began to stream down her face from the heat of her lightsaber. Clenching her thumb and forefinger of her trembling left hand together, she forced the rest of her fingers to close into a fist.

Reaching out with the force again to the lightsaber that floated in front of her. Caressing the hilt with her mind, she felt the cold inertness of the durasteel handle. Pushing harder Zannah thrust her consciousness into the handle. Probing deeply, she felt the same cold of manufactured material from the power insulator, the conductor, and the primary crystal mount's tiny little screws. Moving her consciousness into a small sizzling sensation that touched her mind like it laid upon the flesh of her arm, Zannah recognized the sizzling feeling as emanating from the cycling field energizers and the energy modulation circuits.

Opening her eyes, which were now the color of a bright yellow sun, Zannah stared at the red energy blade as the ghostly voice in the air thundered, "PRETENDER!"

A growling sound reached her ears. Zannah recognized the growl came from her own throat. She pushed deeper with her mind. A bright vibrating heat filled her core as she brushed against both the lens assemblies and power emitters at either end of the hilt. The top emitter radiated the heat of life and death. It traveled down past the tip and into the power source that made up the crimson blade. Pushing deeper down into the energy that brought life to the blade, Zannah brushed against every single part, bolt, and screw on the inside of her lightsaber. The sizzle of electricity and the cold of metal tickled her mind as she traveled down the hilt towards the center. A deep masculine chanting hum began to emit in her chest, spreading out from her body to fill the chamber around her.

It wasn't enough to drown out the ghoul that whispered in the air around her, overcoming the chanting in the background with each menacing word, "Dark Lord of lies. You are a pretender."

Channeling the heat of rage that had built within her breast and had spread up into her head, Zannah pushed out towards her lightsaber as her faced rained sweat onto and in to the folds of her robe. Chanting an unknown spell under her breath that had come to her from the dark power that thundered through her body, pulsating the air around her with a strong sickly heat, she bolstered her connection to the dark side. Her special talents in Sith Sorcery had always been her greatest weapon and aide. Zannah's eyes blazed a bright white. Growling audibly Zannah pushed out even harder. The lightsaber handle flickered and vibrated.

Feeling her weight leave the steaming floor, Zannah began to float a few inches off the ground. She pushed.

The handle of the lightsaber flickered three times and all its parts became transparent. A loud boom bounced around the room as each part of the lightsaber exploded away from their center and flew to all corners of the chamber. Golden electric tendrils held each part and began drawing them slowly back to their center. In this center floated a pair a vibrating red crystals. One, now dormant with one blade turned off, was made of a synthetic material constructed through the use of rudimentary Sith alchemy. It was the other crystal, spiked with a rounded bottom, that sang out to her. The chanting in the air had become a symphony of alien voices by old priests, long dead, but reached once again through the power of the dark side to sing to her in a language lost to the tides of time. The crimson energy of the blade shot up in front of her from the spikes at the top of the crystal.

"Bane's heart," Zannah whispered as she basked in the almost painful heat of the crystals thrumming.

"Pretender," the voice whispered, now solid and real, coming from the shadows just past the weakest point of light that of her blade emitted.

Out of the darkness stepped a titanic form. Heavily muscled from bald head to booted feet, the old thunder of his footsteps was muted to a whispered breeze amidst the chanting that still filled the room. He still wore the obsidian battle armor from days long past on his torso, arms, and legs. Its faint gleam was prevalent through the tiny gaps of the golden green of the orbalisk armor that covered his entire body up to the bottom of his neck and the ends of his wrists. He had long ago rid himself of the parasites, but here they were again, like a bad memory that haunted Zannah's mind. Heavy black and gray robes lay upon the man's body over top his armor. His hood was raised to cover his smooth, bald head. Stress lines creased his forehead as sweat streamed down his pale gray and yellow tinged skin. He had the same strong jaw and powerful chin that Zannah remembered from her youth. Even the black pointed tattoos around his eyes were the same. His usual yellow eyes blazed with a white light similar to Zannah's own."

"Bane," Zannah's strained voice whispered.

"Pretender," Bane replied stopping an inch from Zannah's lightsaber blade. "Dark Lord of lies. You make a mockery of my Sith Order."

"You're dead you fool," Zannah grunted as she struggled to maintain her focus. The sweat that poured down her face stung her glowing eyes and blurred her vision.

"Am I? Yet here I am," Bane mocked. "You make a mockery of my teachings. You're repeating the mistakes of old. You are unworthy. You dilute us, weaken us."

A tremor from her clenched hand ran up her arm and seized her body with an involuntary shaking. Rage, in its crimson inferno, sprung up in its wake, filling her body with its liberating power. She could barely contain it. Raising her hands Zannah screamed as white-hot lightning lashed out from her fingertips. Wild forks of electricity passed through Bane and slammed into the walls of the chamber. Blackened scorch marks surrounding smoking holes peppered the room. The smell of bubbling chemicals filled the air and stung the inside of her slender nose. A second loud boom shook the room around her as she lost her focus and fell back down to the ground. Each part of the lightsaber became opaque again as they snapped back into place around Bane's heart, obscuring the red heat of the crystal and cutting the chanting around the room short. The red blade extinguished itself as the hilt cluttered and rolled onto the floor. Bane was nowhere to be seen.

Rising to her feet Zannah brushed her cloak off and summoned her lightsaber into her hand. Clipping it roughly to the right side of her belt that rested around her slender hips, the lights of the damaged meditation chamber snapped on filling the room with a pale white light. Her meditation time was up.

"I AM DARTH ZANNAH! I AM THE TRUE DARK LORD OF THE SITH!" she affirmed to the empty space where the specter of her old master had stood moments ago.

Striding across the room with her cloak billowing behind her, Zannah slammed her left hand, still contorted into a fist, into the chamber's release control on the side of the wall. The door slid up and open. The cooler air of the rest of her ship streamed in. It his her sweat soaked face with a refreshing arctic blast. Inadvertently she shivered as she began to step out of the chamber.

"Two there should be," Bane's voice whispered in her head stopping Zannah in mid-stride.

Her left hand trembled involuntarily as she stepped out and slammed the door controls on the other side.


End file.
